Tag Archives: *sorry

I blame Amy Poehler’s face for the lack of check marks on my to-do list.

I make to-do lists for most days right before I go to bed. I often don’t look at my list until half-way through the day because writing it down is usually enough to make the tasks stick in my mind and I don’t want to see that filled sheet of paper until I can cross things off.

I did 3 out of 11 things on my list today.

There will be no gold stars, no rewards* and no pats on the back for me.

There will be punishment in the form of an earlier wake-up time, a new and old mess to deal with (it’s called ‘my home’), a crash course through drafts of an essay, forced creativity and way more thinking and planning than I care to do.

The most time consuming parts of this day’s list will be rolling over to the early hours of tomorrow morning.

Starting with…

#1: dishes.

Blurg.

#2: Make a birthday cake for a woman I’ve been in awe of since I was five.**

No pressure.

Then from tomorrow’s to-do list: see her! Drink tea! Eat that cake! Or an Entenmann’s cake if things go south.

Then it’s back to real life stuff.

Reader: Rosie, by ‘real life stuff’ do you mean important endeavors like finding more ways to get bacon in you?

Dearest of readers, of course that’s what I mean.

(BTW, each scoop is 1/3 of a cup of bacon-y awesomeness.) (That’s kinda huge.)

It’s hard to remember to take care of yourself when finding the care you need is a different, more difficult process than just doing a search for people who take your insurance.

I’ve been procrastinating this business for a while.

I don’t like change.

Or most doctors.

Or waiting rooms. Which is gonna be even more of a thing now that I’ll be going to free clinics.

Are you getting why I’ve been putting this off?

#4: Go back to the crazy business of job hunting. I kind of took a break from this one because I secretly sort of went through a whole grieving process when I didn’t get… multiple jobs in a row.

My notes on this: follow up. Like, a million times more than you think you should. You’ll either get seriously considered for a job… or they’ll file a restraining order against you. Either way, you’re making your determined face known and that’s a good thing.****

Even if you don’t get the job(s). Interviews are valuable. A horrible, train wreck of an interview can be really useful… in retrospect. If you don’t get to the interview but managed to convince someone to take your resume, that’s still a win. Those suckers are stuck with the environmental impact of their next actions. You’re scot-free.

Have a party!

Hi, I’m Snowman Ricky! I like to be left out in the cold… unlike those high and mighty unemployed jerks.

Keep on trucking, Ricky.

Oh boy, self.

Sorry, readers.

#5: Run a bunch of errands.

Let’s gloss right over this one.

Errands are old fashioned. Who needs ’em? Not this guy. That’s who.

#6: Research!

I’m looking into another (super secret) field of work.

#7: Lady stuff.

Yay.*****

#8: Back to BACON.

The most important of meats/daily obligations/things to blog about when I should be sleeping.

These cookies happened out of necessity. I had bacon grease and fudge that couldn’t stick around in their current states.

So I smushed them together. And everything was hunky dory.******

Recipe time!

Preheat your oven to 375! Or don’t and freeze balls of cookie dough to be baked some other time. ‘Cause that works with these. But eat some now, jeez.

Cream together:

6 tbsps room temperature butter (I used unsalted, if you want to use salted butter, leave out the salt. Did I hear lightbulbs? No? You guys already knew to do this? Dandy******)

2 tbsps bacon fat (a little bit colder than room temperature)

1/3 cup each dark brown sugar and granulated sugar

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp instant espresso powder

Mix in:

1 1/4 cup all purpose flour

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/8 tsp baking powder (for a little extra rise and a slight cakiness- I’m sure you would still get excellent cookies if you chose to leave this out)

A pinch of salt

1 1/2 cups of whatever chunked up candy you want to throw in there.

I split it between rocky road fudge that had gone a bit stale and a big bar of toblerone with a couple tbsps of peanut butter chips to round things out. If you have bacon, please fry up, chop and throw some of that in too.

Scoop out giant rounds of dough, freeze some, bake them all, give them to a neighbor (who’s not Jewish or a vegetarian- unless you’re an ass or it’s consensual) do whatever you need to do to feel right about this as long as you eat them while they’re hot. I mean it, people.

*Today I ate M&M’s with several spoonfuls of peanut butter, a stale peep and some brown rice pudding.

Those were all for sustenance. Nothing rewarding here. Move along, judgers of me.

**Hopefully I’ll also have time to make a card- though the idea of that makes me feel like a tiny, foolish (but thoughtful) child.

Pretend the mint on those hunks of grapefruit are romaine… and larger… and also avocado… and the juice puddle on the plate is secretly grapefruit lime dijon dressing.

Now that mind picture you’re conjuring is totally a Galentine’s Day salad. You nailed it! Good job.

I’m sorry I’ve been away from you, brand new blog/five readers. I still feel pretty terrible. On multiple levels.

I’ve been trying to figure out what I should tell you, Internet. I’m still not quite finished sorting out a particularly disheartening job hunt so that story will have to be for another post. The story of my unrealistic relationship expectations will have to be told… never? Yeah. I think that’s right, ’cause despite the Galentine’s Day post, this blog isn’t going to be about my personal relationships or all my words would be tangled up in family issues and gross romantical woes.*

Yuck.

This thing is supposed to make ya’ll hungry, not queasy.

I can tell you that I’ve been kind of strung along lately and I can feel depression breaking over me like a rushed hollandaise.

I can’t not look for work because rejection triggers my crazy. Excuses are lame. Dawdling is silly.

So tomorrow will involve banana cream pie for my mom, a bike ride that I get to choose**, actual cover letter writing, a couple of phone calls that will hopefully grant me a little closure*** and some unpleasant re-evaluation of my (lack of) coping methods.

Woo!

I’m gonna focus on the pie.

‘Cause that stuff is deloicious.****

Do you need a cocktail after that hot mess of words I just flung at you? I do.

1/4 cup turbinado sugar (you can use any sugar you have around as long as it’s not powdered)

1 sprig’s worth of rosemary leaves

Cook until sugar dissolves.

Leave the rosemary in for at least ten minutes, then strain it if you’re afraid of over-steeping. I left the leaves in and things turned out just awesome.

For each drink:

Fill a glass with as much ice as you’re into.

Add equal parts gin and (blood orange) juice*****… and tonic water. Throw in 1 tsp rosemary syrup to start. Stir. Guzzle. Fine tune your ratio on the second drink. Unless it needs more gin on the first go round. See to that immediately.******

You’re gonna need a snack to go with this. ‘Cause without something salty, you have less of an excuse to keep drinking. I’m just looking out for your best interests. You don’t want that gin to go stale. That’s a thing, right?

On Galentine’s I toasted up some pumpkin seeds with spices and such to go on our lady salad. And they made it to the salad. But I just wanted to eat them by the fistful. From my fist. While holding a brightly colored cocktail in my other hand with my pinky fully extended to make me feel slightly civilized.

In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast 1/2 cup raw, unsalted pumpkin seeds for 3-5 minutes, watching and stirring, until they get a little color and smell like a thing you would hide in your cheeks… if you were a hamster.*******

Especially if you end up doubling the recipe, which should be very easy and definitely worth it.

I want a granola bar that tastes like this. Damn my hippy instincts.

*It would turn into a blog about Donald Glover’s face. And that’s what Tumblr is for.

**Non-Consensual Bike Ride is the name of my ____ cover band.

Fill it in, peeps.

I’m sorry I said ‘peeps’. I haven’t even been drinking. I’m just emotionally and physically exhausted.

***And with closure comes more posts! Try to contain your excitement.

****Jean-Ralphio

*****… laid back, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind…

Yeah, that was just to amuse myself.

I mean, that was super relevant and necessary to this post/your day.

******I’m assuming you also had a bad day.

Um. Drink responsibly?

*******I don’t care for hamsters. The only one’s I ever knew lived with my aunt and kept me awake when I stayed over. Also they get to run around in fancy colored balls (of plastic. God, don’t be gross). Where’s my ball? Jerk hamsters.

I have a lovely lady friend. She’s smart and funny and I’m totally into her face.

Our friendship looks like this:

-“It’s the middle of the night and I need to vent to someone who won’t give me even more perspective than I already freaking’ have (because I tend to dismiss my sadness/anger feelings because of third world countries/possession of sight and limbs and whatnot) so… Nations or are bars still open?”

-“Did you see ‘Parks and Rec’?”

-“Oh my sweet baby jesus, Childish Gambino! We will sit on his face.”*

Anyway, given our propensity for daydreaming about Leslie Knope’s face we decided to have us a big ass Galentine’s Day.******

The actual day of our fantastical lady times was cold and overcast. I was brain dead from exhaustion brought on by pestering cafe’s for work (I had an interview the next day!) (Interviews are gross) and we both wanted to sit around in sweat pants and read. But, being ladies, we didn’t mention these feelings to one another until we’d covered ourselves in girl fabrics and lugged awesome food and delicious day drunk drinks to a garden where we complained about the icy wind, boys and how super incapable I am of ending a sentence at a reasonable length.

And then Megan gave me this:

Ron Freaking Swanson. (If you click on his face, you will be able to read the words next to him. Then you will understand why Megan is the best sort of lady friend around.)

And my day was totally made.

The end.

Reader- “But Rosie, wasn’t there food at this lady picnic?”

Other reader- “Yeah, isn’t this supposed to be at least partially a food blog?”

Yes, you beautiful naive sophisticated new born baby.*******

This day was full of food.

And! I’m totally gonna tell you about it.

When I’m less sickly and done with naps.

In the meantime…

Have some flowers! I picked them, ’cause I’m romancing you.

Also, know that Megan put honey in fresh ricotta and slathered it on bread and covered that in apple slices. In general I’m not a big fan of ricotta because I, you know, can’t remove my mouth, but this stuff was delicious. Put that in your thinking caps, people.

*Probably not at the same time- his face is a normal size. A beautiful, mustachioed, normal size.

Also, if you like seeing his face with a mustache (if you don’t, you’re clearly a monster), then you should definitely see Mystery Team. It’s absurdly hilarious.

***Should we acknowledge that we’re sort of bonkers? WHAT. Who said that? Jerks.

****Welcome to our go-to karaoke song. Also, Megan/anyone who bothers to read my silly words, have you still not seen ‘Spring Breakdown’? You clearly have internet access, go fix your life.

*****Yes, this is separate from Parks and Rec. That is how into his face we are.

******“What’s Galentine’s Day? Oh it’s only the best day of the year. Every February 13th my lady friends and I leave our husbands and our boyfriends at home and we just kick it breakfast style. Ladies celebrating ladies. It’s like Lilith Fair, minus the angst. Plus, frittatas!”

-Leslie Knope

No, we didn’t make waffles. It’s possible I ate some whipped cream after putting on sweats and taking a nap but it’s a blur.

*******”Oh Ann, you beautiful tropical fish”

Sometimes the nonsense I speak is secretly a reference that you won’t get unless you happen to watch whatever I watch.

I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I watch some really great stuff. Just look up at April Ludgate’s face. That thing is glorious.